"You lied to us, you long-headed Yankee turncoat," muttered another. "What in thunder do you mean bringing us down here for kidnapping a lady?" "Ain't I worried about it as much as you?" answered Rawbon. "Can't you understand it's all a mistake?" "Well, now, you go and apologize to Miss Weems and fix matters, d'ye hear?" "But what can we do?" "Do? Undo what you've done, and show her back into the boat." "But the two abo"-- "Damn them and you along with 'em! Come, boys, don't let's keep the lady waiting thar." The party approached their prisoners, and one among them, hat in hand, respectfully addressed Oriana. "Miss Weems, we're plaguy sorry this should 'a happened. It's a mistake and none of our fault. Your boat's down thar and yer shan't be merlested." "Am I free to go?" asked Oriana, calmly. "Free as air, Miss Weems." "With my companions?" "No, they remain with us," said Rawbon. "Then I remain with them," she replied, with dignity and firmness. The man who had first remonstrated with Rawbon, stepped up to him and laid his hand heavily on his shoulder: "Look here, Seth Rawbon, you've played out your hand in this game, now mind that. Miss Weems, you're free to go, anyhow, with them chaps or not, just as you like." They stepped down the embankment, but the boats were nowhere to be seen. Rawbon, anticipating some trouble with his gang, had made a pretence only of securing the craft to a neighboring bush. The current had carried the boats out into the stream, and they had floated down the river and were lost to sight in the darkness. CHAPTER V.